[ That'd make two of them, then. Not in so much as Amos cares about reading people — once he's got the basics down of who someone is, he's good; if it goes further than that then, well, he'll have to figure that out when the time comes — but knowing that at least, between the two of them, there's never going to be any bullshit. He might never call Geralt a brother in the way he would Holden, but a fraction of the sentiment could be there.
Nothing's real here, so Amos can reach out and take the sharp object, weigh it in his own hands. It's different from a gun, that's for sure. He blinks at the gems — now, why would you put those on a weapon — and turns his attention to the actual blade itself. Shifts so he can give it an experimental poke at its tip, doesn't react when a bead of blood wells up on his finger, whether it hurts or not. Was kinda expecting that.
He looks back up at Geralt, something of a grin on his lips. They're just talking shop; he can appreciate the basic craftsmanship. Less the gold and shit, but the way the thing is built. ] Sure. This'd kill a person, easy. I mean, not as easy as a gun. Kinda at a disadvantage with the whole limited distance thing. But anything that's got flesh 'n blood, this'd do in a pinch. [ He speaks as though he's considering something that actually doesn't necessarily have flesh and blood, but it's casual enough. That shit isn't here. ] How long it take you to get the hang of one of these things?
[ A gun, you just pull the trigger and that's about it. He'd learned to disassemble and reassemble them at an early enough age, too; turned out he had an aptitude for that. This, though — a sword would take more physical exertion, that much is obvious. Not that Amos isn't the kind of guy who couldn't handle that, but it's also very much not a memory his muscles would be familiar with. And when it comes to shit you can use to kill other people, he's pretty respectful of it, not the type to go off half-cocked. So. It's kinda an important question. ]
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Nothing's real here, so Amos can reach out and take the sharp object, weigh it in his own hands. It's different from a gun, that's for sure. He blinks at the gems — now, why would you put those on a weapon — and turns his attention to the actual blade itself. Shifts so he can give it an experimental poke at its tip, doesn't react when a bead of blood wells up on his finger, whether it hurts or not. Was kinda expecting that.
He looks back up at Geralt, something of a grin on his lips. They're just talking shop; he can appreciate the basic craftsmanship. Less the gold and shit, but the way the thing is built. ] Sure. This'd kill a person, easy. I mean, not as easy as a gun. Kinda at a disadvantage with the whole limited distance thing. But anything that's got flesh 'n blood, this'd do in a pinch. [ He speaks as though he's considering something that actually doesn't necessarily have flesh and blood, but it's casual enough. That shit isn't here. ] How long it take you to get the hang of one of these things?
[ A gun, you just pull the trigger and that's about it. He'd learned to disassemble and reassemble them at an early enough age, too; turned out he had an aptitude for that. This, though — a sword would take more physical exertion, that much is obvious. Not that Amos isn't the kind of guy who couldn't handle that, but it's also very much not a memory his muscles would be familiar with. And when it comes to shit you can use to kill other people, he's pretty respectful of it, not the type to go off half-cocked. So. It's kinda an important question. ]